


break all the rules

by rottenboy (TechnicalTragedy)



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Gentleness, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Short & Sweet, Touching, don't know what else to call it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:01:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicalTragedy/pseuds/rottenboy
Summary: robbie doesn't like being touched (except for when he does).





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at 1 am in abt thirty minutes so sorry for typos or weird phrasing, i tried to get back to my fav way to write, which is incomprehensible vaguely-flowery prose.
> 
> don't mind me, i'll just be over here projecting.

he feels off, like his whole being has been shifted two inches to the right and he didn't notice until he started stubbing his toes on uncentered parts of his personality, like there are insects crawling between his skin and muscle. it's a profoundly unpleasant experience for him to be touched, he wears long sleeves and pants to avoid as much of it as possible, but sometimes it still manages to creep through. this time, like most of the times when this happens, sportacus is somehow involved.

the townsfolk know how robbie feels about people touching him. they don't understand it, not when they're all such touchy-feely individuals, but even when they think he's the worst person in the world, they respect his preferences and don't touch him. sportacus, and robbie isn't sure if it's an elf thing or a sportacus thing, thrives more than anyone off of contact. he craves it, needs that tactility that robbie despises, yet sportatouchy always comes crawling back to beg robbie for more. he doesn't beg with words, of course, because sportacus has far too much pride for that, but his desperation is clear in that far too expressive face of his. he trails his fingers over robbie's things, shooting him coy little looks, asks oh-so-politely if it would be intrusive to take his bracers off - maybe his hat, too? it's so warm in here, robbie, i don't know how you can stand all those layers. and it's not as if robbie doesn't know what sportacus is doing, he's not an idiot, but he'll be damned if he doesn't give in every time.

it's weird, at first, itchy and uncomfortable.

robbie's flesh is too tight on his bones, sportacus' wandering hands are stinging where they skate over robbie's arms, legs, chest. robbie always tries to duck out, but sportacus is infinitely gentle and patient, ready to coax robbie back from his rising panic. it stops being bad, at some point, and robbie is never sure just when it is. all he knows is that he'll catch his breath eventually, look into sportacus' kind eyes, and all of sudden he finds that he doesn't mind those feather-light touches against his bare skin anymore.

it happens every time, every single time. robbie wishes he could stop himself from falling down this rabbit hole, but when sportacus is looking at him like this, like he's something more than a freak who flinches at shadows, robbie would kill to keep that expression on sportacus' face.

after it gets good, robbie can touch back.

he reaches out of his own accord, sometimes putting his palms to sportacus' shoulders to steady them, other times reaching out to sportacus' hair to calm himself with its texture. usually the sensation of touch is too much for him to handle, he can't think past it, can't breathe, can't function when he's got a person putting their hands on him. with sportacus, it's different. robbie kisses sportacus, not hating the feeling that he usually avoids with everything in him. sportacus always smiles with him, thanks him profusely like he knows just how much of himself robbie lets sportacus have. and he knows just how to take care of robbie.

they wind up in bed, eventually.

they're both half dressed and gasping for it, taking and giving in turn, robbie feeling overwhelmed in the best way when sportacus can't stop mouthing thanks into his neck. he feels like he'll combust, like the tension building in him is a tidal wave putting too much pressure on all the seams of him. robbie isn't real, he can't be, because a real robbie would stop this, would find it in himself to tell sportacus no like he doesn't want it just as bad.

but he does want it. he needs it, and sportacus knows that just as well as robbie does.

the spiders turn to shivers, the nettles turn to cotton. sportacus holds robbie against his broad chest, and they move against each other fluidly, breathing almost in time, sweat sticking them to each other as robbie moans into sportacus' mouth. his nails curl into sportacus' back when it becomes too honest, too much for him. sportacus is nice enough to back off, to cool the searing heat tearing robbie to pieces. he lets robbie pick the pace, when he's ready, and what was once too much touch is now not near enough, robbie needs the both of them naked as soon as possible. sportacus is happy to oblige.

"i need to feel you," robbie says, breathless with something unnameable turning his stomach to stone. "i- sport, i want-"

"it's okay, it's okay," sportacus shushes.

robbie is a toy for sportacus to wind up and let run. he's clockwork, predictable in his assent. but sportacus treats him well, too well, runs him until he's drained and shaking and on the verge of tears, and even then sportacus is there to ground and care for robbie. he lets robbie pull him close, push him away, contract and expand and ebb and flow, and sportacus thanks him, thanks him again, asks so sweetly if he's allowed to touch.

and robbie says yes. robbie always says yes.

sportacus touches. he holds and caresses and kisses and makes robbie feel explosive, euphoric. they come apart together, for a moment all their atoms aligned and vibrating at the exact same frequency, robbie clinging to sportacus like he'll never let go. robbie could never let this go, could never want to. he'd do anything to keep it.

he lands in his own body, sportacus under him and around him and everywhere, all skin and all contact.

when they're together like this, robbie doesn't mind quite so much.


End file.
